i guess it’s all right.
but it’s not, it’s not.
i go to sleep and dream of you - your hands and your smile and us meeting after weeks apart.
it’s hard to be the one on the outside, the one who waits.
but i know you’re waiting too.
i’ll taste the sky and feel alive again.
maybe that’s it.. this life thing: these sights, these sounds, these moments;
they’re not the same without you.
and i don’t mean that in a cheesy, hallmark greeting card way.
i mean everything means more when i’m with you.
and that’s the only honest way to put it.
i don’t worry that you won’t be waiting for me,
i don’t worry that things will change:
i just miss you. and i wait,
and maybe that’s why this is so hard:
because every ounce of my being is wrapped up in
waiting for you.
and it’s strange to be surrounded by familiar sights and sounds
and people i call “family”;
yet still feel empty inside because
your hand isn’t holding mine.
and i know they say it’s crazy to have
your heart so tied up in someone,
but i’ll freely acknowledge that
you’re worth the risk.
and it’s not like i’ve really given my heart away;
i just confuse my heart with yours, sometime
and in the nights when i lie awake,
i hear your breathing:
rhythmic and wise and beautiful
and it’s almost enough,
to span the miles that separate,
you are the laughter i keep in my heart.
there isn’t any way to say it
that doesn’t sound cliche,
just know you illuminate
every inch of me.